Some day's Promise
by xxsurgical-suicidexx
Summary: Discontinued but still amusing. After Nny returns from death, he takes a walk, stabs someone, gets arrested and that results in him being sent to a group home. There he meets a colorful assortment of people and insanity ensues.
1. Chapter One: Introduction to Insanity

Disclaimer: Honestly, why can't people just assume? Oh well here it is: I IN FACT DO OWN EVERYTHING I'M WRITING ABOUT EXCEPT NNY, MMY, VOLDEMORT AND THE CONCEPT OF THE 'DIE-ARY'. NEVERTHELESS I DO NOT GET PAID FOR WRITING THIS. JOHNNY JUST HAS A KNIFE TO MY THROAT FORCING ME TO WHIMS. Teehee I wish.  
  
Author's Note: I came to the revelation that for my other story, I have a horrid case of writer's block. If you think this is a true piece of shit and would like to see more things fashioned after the style of my prior story then take it upon yourselves to leave some suggestions.  
  
Another Note on Sequence of Events (AKA the plot): This is what I think would have happened if, instead of crashing through his window and continuing life as is after his stay in death, Johnny went instead on a walk to try to decide if this was his reality. The irony of this story is....well I'm not going to tell you. Figure it out. Anyway Johnny ends up in a group home for his 'violent tendencies' and schizophrenia. The former has shown itself in more or less just a fight where weapons were involved; his trusty smiley knives. Miraculously he got arrested and sent to The House of Merry Acres (sinister name for the place I know). His roommate is none other than MMY, his stalker. Though of course our system of healthcare is so fucked up, that nobody notes this and they're stuck together. Wouldn't it be diabolical if they fell in love? Ha ha I do love slash, but that would just be....  
  
Some day's Promise  
  
Chapter One  
  
Nny's Introduction to Insanity  
  
Like a very thin cat, Johnny was practically curled up on his hard plastic seat situated before his psychiatrist, Dr. England. Though he remembered her from a few months ago when he had done some sleep testing here at the hospital; the woman didn't seem to recall Johnny. Listening but not interpreting, he went through her mindless chortle as she rustled papers on her desk.  
"Sir, it says here you had some rather distinctive knives on you at the time of the assault. Where would they be?" she asked.  
"If you would just move your eyes up and down a little bit, it would be quite obvious in the police report....and any thinking individual for that matter that the fucking knives are at the police station as evidence!" His voice was casual; a graceful sound at the start of this sentence, building to a tense roar that nearly knocked the doctor's white-blond hair right off her head.  
Quickly however, she recovered smugly smiling and murmuring, "There's no need to be hostile Mr. C." She was humming Dixie. Of all things, Jesus Christ, Johnny thought sizing up her neck and the time it would take to find a metal pen in her desk while holding her down. He moved a little, being very uncomfortable in the scratchy material of plain-white mental hospital styling. Oddly they allowed him to keep his boots, the short plain black ones that now he was rather glad he had been wearing at the time. His long ones were uncomfortable, not to mention full of knives.  
A sharp knuckle-cracking brought the chirpy woman back to her specimen. "Sign here," Dr. England said shoving the papers at him. It had been one of those moments in the nature of human dislike when the two of them had jointly been staring off into space. Nny had not fully recovered from the hate-induced trance centered the blood-filled veins in her white hands, so he received a thin paper cut on his face from the fluttering forms.  
His eyes locked on hers. "And what will this do to me?" he asked with a definite edge to his voice.  
"It will release your control over your own destiny Mr. C. The hospital and your caring house mother will be allowed to do basically anything they want to you. We could medicate you until you see little birdies in your underpants, you could be electro shocked into the servitude of Lord Voldemort, or the caring house mother could allow your housemates to poke things up your asshole 'til you cry," England said, obviously delighted with all of these ideas. Madly she clicked a pen in his face, which he snatched away from her just to stop the noise.  
"If I refuse?" he asked suspiciously.  
"You go to jail where they don't need forms for people to poke things up your asshole!" she cried.  
He rolled his eyes, a blaring trademark of an adult who never quite gave up teen angst. This woman should not be a doctor; he thought viciously, she should be a prison guard with a fucking sex change. Nny stabbed his signature into the forms which were whisked away from him as quickly as he could settle his hand onto the desk space beside them.  
"Now what?" he growled.  
"The van!" she said, jumping up and knocking over her own flimsy chair. England turned quickly to right it, showing immediate distrust of turning her back to him for any amount of time. Good, he thought watching her quirky movements as he stood; a black panther in white fur. 


	2. Chapter Two: Some People Leade Beautiful...

Author's Note: This is a slightly boring patent introduction chapter. For this story since I have a lot more time, I'm going to reply to each of my reviews individually....so far I've only gotten one review *hugs lone reviewer*  
  
TheUndeadRabbitWhichLives: Thank you! I'm glad you like my stories. I love that part in Squee's book too! Johnny is too cute sometimes...anyway I really do try (  
  
The only other thing for you charming folks to take note of is that I bumped up the rating. With all the colorful nuts editions in the halfway house R will be a must. Personally I think ratings are stupid, that it's the person's own maturity level that dictates what they can read but....oh my I'm going on a tangent.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Some People Have Beautiful Lives  
  
Nny sat despairingly in the passenger seat of the van. The driver was a load of fun. He still couldn't differentiate this person as male or female. 'It' smoked and that annoyed Johnny quite a bit. He couldn't stand smokers, for some reason especially this pig.  
The scenery didn't provide for much of a distraction. His group home was located somewhere on the outskirts of town, by a straight spine of railroad tracks and a factory that produced costume apparel. Nny drummed his fingers on the armrest until the driver finally rumbled out, "Have you looked at any of those papers England gave you?"  
"No," Nny replied quietly.  
The driver smirked, showing off its yellow crooked teeth in a mind- numbing clench around the cigarette. "Do you not know how to read?"  
"Of course I know how to read. I went to school before George Bush became president didn't I?" Nny replied, glancing at the driver who was now howling with laughter at this mediocre probe at the American presidency. He sighed, sitting back more in the chair.  
"Well if it did you would know what job the housemother got for you," the driver said, recovering and staring blankly at the road through jellybean eyes.  
Job? Holy feet I get my own job, Nny grumbled within his mind. "Do you know what I have to do?" he moaned, sounding even more teenager-like.  
"No. Why the fuck would they tell me?" the driver said. It was then silent for the rest of the ride, until he finally booted Johnny out.  
The house looked like a dilapidated version of Beaver Cleaver's house, a robin's egg blue peeling to reveal a sickly sort of yellowish- green paint. The trims were all in white, lacy looking though obviously faux-Victorian. For the amount of people Nny had been told lived there the house looked from the outside rather small. The windows were overly-stuffed with plants of kinds, accented by filmy looking curtains with a large sunflower print. Nny cringed. Grass was not an issue at this place. The hot summer sun had reduced it to the consistency of a blond man's facial stubble. No wonder they had potted all the plants, though from their state this action had not done them much good.  
Nny got out of the car, having the leap away to avoid having his left leg caught in the door and snapped out of its socket by the breakneck speed the driver was leaving in. As a result he obtained a large angry looking scrape, which appeared to be a close cousin to a burn from the hot tar he fell on. The skinless space ran from his bony elbow to his protruding wrist bone on the arm he had used to break his fall.  
He swore loudly, wondering if he had thought to grab those papers the driver had been yammering about. Luckily and unluckily they had flown all over the lawn and the wind had picked up. Nny looked like a huge, dancing scarecrow trying to get them all before Mother Nature finished her course with them. Nobody noticed him though and the quietness of the house had made Johnny wonder whether or not this was the right place or just some relic from the 50s.  
Papers firmly under his arm, Nny stood on the porch and tried the doorbell. No luck. A few more repetitive annoying rings brought an excitable looking middle-aged woman, coppery red hair done up in rollers and a horribly out of season poinsettia house dress stretched over her mild girth. Her large coppery brown eyes were wide and shining as if the Pope had been knocking her door down to talk to her. Replacing her delusion was a gaunt and impatient looking young fellow, with black hair pointing every which way at the top, a sickly yellow skin tone underlying a putrid shade of electric blue fabric that was his t-shirt (rather holy, as if it had just been picked up from the Salvation Army which of course it had) and black leather boots and faded black jeans. The clothes were somebody else's, as all his personal effects besides the boots had been 'misplaced'.  
"You must been John C!" she exclaimed, pumping his hand excitedly; almost upsetting the papers once again. After she finally let go of his appendage the housemother as he supposed, a round friendly woman stepped back allowing him.  
"Last time I checked," he mumbled, "Also its Johnny. It's always been Johnny."  
Her grin only grew wider as the two of them stood in the drafty living room of House of Merry Acres. "Ok then Johnny. My name's Bernadette Peters!" As soon as she said this, 'Bernadette' began to waft around the house, kicking off her light pink terry cloth mules. Finally she disappeared into the kitchen. There was a loud rumble of somebody dropping pans and a lot of cutlery with the shattering of what was probably a bunch of plates. A woman screamed, "Luis you idiot! You're not supposed to be in here! I'm telling Nancy!"  
Bewildered was Johnny and even more so when another woman stepped out of the woodwork. "Umm hi. Who was that?" he asked.  
The woman rolled her eyes. This was one tall, almost Johnny's height and skinnier than him. She had stringy brown hair done up in a mad looking bun. Her glasses were black and huge, making her violet eyes look glittering and bug-like. Relatively young perhaps thirty she was with a limp looking carnation pink skirt and jacket with a white puffy shirt accented by a gold chain. "That was Nancy. She's a multiple personality who thinks she's Bernadette Peters....and several other people but you'll no doubt learn much more about that as time progresses. Anyway you would be our new crew member, John who prefers to be called Johnny?"  
"Yes," he answered. The woman took out a clip board and scanned it. Her gaze met his again, looking rather afraid though she quickly hid it.  
"As you can tell," she continued, "The government decided we didn't need a decent place to put you people so this is now House of Merry Acres and you'll be sharing a room with another guy. Don't worry everyone does, and we try to put similar people together."  
"That was what the compatibility test was for?" He said this without thinking. The answer was rather obvious.  
She narrowed her eyes humorously as if trying to also conceal her buggy charms. "Yes Mr. Brilliance." At once she was apologetic though Johnny figured it was mostly because she was scared shitless of him. And well that she is, he thought. He found it hilarious that they didn't actually know he was a killer, was going to kill that guy before the police got there and really wanted to do away with this bitch.  
Turning on her heel in a flutter of pink she beckoned him through the kitchen where Nancy was glowering at a man who appeared relatively normal if not a little too cheerful. Johnny ignored his smile as they climbed the stairs. "Your roommate should be back in about an hour so. He has the midnight to nine shift at the factory. His name's Jimmy, arrested for attempted rape."  
"Oh well that's fantastic," Johnny said as they now stood facing each other in a small room. On either side of the room was a bed, army cot style. One was made up neatly, but the other was too obviously 'lived-in'. Jimmy was obviously a pig in both the sexual and the dirty sense. Nny plunked himself down on the cot intended for him and peered out of a high window that barely got breeze blown on his hair. The next thing he noticed was that it was stifling in the room. The third was that he wished he was dead.  
"So yeah well that's it. You start your job at the construction site up town, digging ditches for the new strip mall tomorrow," the pink garbed woman told him. The 'caring' house mother left without another sound from her pale lips. Johnny watched the door as it would have slammed shut had it not been severely off its hinges. He sighed extravagantly though no one was there this time to witness his angsty gesture as Nny let himself fall onto the 'bed'. The cot collapsed under even his next to nothing weight. 


	3. Chapter Three: Holy Moose

Author's Note: I have no plan for what's going to happen with this fic. It's merely the garbage of my mind floating out, stoked by my loud stereo that's upsetting my rabbit and lot's of soda. Oh I know the devilish thing I'm going to do....which will probably turn you all against me, but who gives a shit. It's art. Wahoo two reviewsies!  
  
J. Marguerite: Thank yooz *strangles with glee* Oh sorry. I get overly excited at the fact that stuff I write is plastered on the internet for people to see. Holy moose here's your answer.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Holy Moose  
  
"Holy moose!" Johnny exclaimed as the back of his head smacked rather ungracefully on the exposed metal frame of the bed. The now burning scrape reminded him of its presence, grappled by carpet. It was a scratchy irritating carpet, an angry mold yellow color and it probably gave people rashes. Nny rolled off onto it and got up off his knees. Somewhere he heard water running. He figured that would be the bathroom unless an elephant happened to be pissing a few doors down. Nny assured himself on the short way down to get some disinfectant that he could just quickly dash in a dash back out, without incident. It didn't happen that way.  
As soon as Nny stepped over the threshold, he was met by the piercing stair of a scraggly looking girl who looked somewhere between fifteen and twenty. "Umm hello," he said, as he opened the mirror cabinet and scanned for some disinfectant. Somebody made a small noise in the shower, though the girl was completely silent and was now staring into shower. Nny kept his focus averted, respecting others privacy though not so much as to put his own needs second to a stranger's. Strangers did him so much wrong.  
"Holy shit Melva will you get the hell out of here?" a male voice came from the shower.  
Melva, the girl seated on the toilet with the lid down, didn't respond to him. She just giggled. Nny could hear grumbling and thought this might get interesting. He leered from the door. From the shower he heard a distinct rustling. Without warning an industrial can of feminine shaving crème went flying from the shower. Melva tried to move to avoid it, but it ended up making painful contact with her frontal lobe. Satisfied laughter came from the shower as a thin hand snatched a towel from the rack. Hurriedly he dried off and took the clothes that Melva had been sitting on from the toilet. Hey, it was a small bathroom. A tall, frazzled looking man no older than Johnny himself came out. In fact they looked eerily similar.  
Obviously he felt Nny staring at him and looked up. The look on his face was priceless. It was as if Elvis had come back from the dead. Quickly he pulled on his boots and said in awe, "Oh my god it's you."  
"I suspect it is," Johnny said leery of this person, "Who's she?"  
"M-melva. She's a pervert voyeur or something. It's not important. Today of all days, how'd you end up here?"  
"I stabbed some guy," Johnny replied, taking a few steps back. Already he had said too much.  
"I figured. Stupid question of me, I suppose. I'm Jimmy. I've been a fan of yours for quite some time," he replied advancing. Johnny wanted away, not considering the fact he may want out of the bathroom.  
"That's nice," Johnny said, oddly intrigued and repelled by this. He just wanted to figure out how much this guy knew about him, or if he was just another loony. Scratch that: he was they all were. But still he might be a loony that knows something. "What exactly do I do that you're a fan of?"  
"Everything!" he said maniacally, an odd glint to his greenish eyes. They both started walking in the same direction.  
"Umm I'll just be going now. To my room," Nny said side-stepping in.  
"Oh cool. You're my new roommate. God I'll learn so much," Jimmy the over-exuberant fan said. Nny sat despairingly on his bed, though was soon shooed off by Jimmy's attempts to fix it. He asked questions like what kind of knife he used to stab the guy, if he would still be doing Happy Noodle Boy, Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z?Z? you get the frickin' point. 


	4. A Weird Evening

Disclaimer: I believe it's time for a confession. When I was ten years old in 1999, yes I did tell JV everything. I gave him the ideas for every comic he ever wrote, but the mean bastard fucked my fifth grade self out of the rights. I joke; of course, JV is certainly not a bastard. I'm just really sick of disclaimers.  
  
1. Author's Note: I'm taking J. Maquerite's advice. Let the Nny humping ensue! Finally I'm getting back to this story, it's sort of funny. I laughed while I wrote it, but that may just be because I am utterly brainless. But I hope I haven't lost the people who were following it. Remember this really isn't my best, though I try. It's my first try at humor and I don't really know where I'm going with it.  
  
BloodyScar: Am I wuved yet?  
  
RaVeNs eViL sKyTtLe: Here's comes the insanity.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
A Weird Evening  
  
In the process of Jimmy's seemingly endless string of one-sided conversation, Johnny had walked from his room, out of the house and down the street to get a Brainfreezy. It was now getting dark-winter was coming, though Johnny was kept warm by the heat of utter annoyance and Jimmy with that of unbridled passion. Walking home, Johnny had taken to flicking the remaining bits of ice at his companion. "Damn hail!" Jimmy exclaimed as they went up the walk. Johnny was still quite weirded out by the fact he had even * been * caught. And for stabbing someone! What the hell is that? Johnny thought. It was a very neat thing there were no records he even existed. The house.. everything was in the name of the prior residents of 777. Johnny tossed the empty Brainfreezy containment unit into the bushes as he opened the door. Melva was naturally there. He was seriously creeped out by her Marty Feldman eyes and overall perversion. "So what now?" Johnny asked, cutting Jimmy off quickly with a subtle movement of his hand. Jimmy seemed to ponder this for a second. This was the first time his idol had actually spoken * back * to him. "I guess we watch TV," was the best he could come up with. Both of them sat down on the couch; Melva scurried away into the bowels of the happy lemon-colored house. Johnny stared absentmindedly, just taking in his surroundings and the TV. Currently the show on was 'Doctor's With Anger Management Issues'. Both chortled enthusiastically as a man ran around with a needle and tube shooting acid up his ass. Jimmy peered over at him. In the dim like of bowels in strips coming from the television, Johnny was an attractive little bugger; he was graceful, dangerous and catlike. Jimmy licked his lips watching Johnny handle the remote control. "Yes?" Johnny asked warily, turning away slightly. "Nothin'," he replied, blushing. Well this is a decided improvement, Johnny thought, as he began to absentmindedly pick at threads in the arm of the couch; his feet scooted up. He finally just hugged his knees and stared, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You want a soda or something?" Jimmy asked, an idea popping into his head. The lust was just too much. "Yeah why not." Johnny's voice trailed off. He was definitely having an angsty moment. Shit how did I get here? I can't remember anything from before I died.why? "What the hell is it God?" he burst out. Jimmy meanwhile was in the kitchen and jumped about ten feet at the loud questioning. "You all right?" he asked; collecting himself. Loud sobs emitted from the living room. Oh so torn-it was a toss up between his immense wanting and making his obsession feel better about whatever was tormenting him. Ah well, he could do both. A drink or several would probably loosen the poor guy up. In the meantime, Johnny quickly put himself in check. Even if the bastard * was * just an annoyance, he certainly wasn't going to cry like that in front of him. Jimmy sat down mischievously beside him, loosely with an arm around Nny. Johnny flinched at the touch, but realized there wasn't any couch left to scoot away onto. He swallowed. Stop looking at me like that, he thought. "Uhh thanks," he managed; taking the drink. It tasted funny, not like soda at all, but at that point Nny didn't care. He had grown quite morose at this point, and secretly hoped this weirdo had put some kind of poison in his drink, though judging by his admiration filled, puppy dog eyes it wasn't likely.  
  
What follows in the exact reason Johnny is not a substance abuser. Hater of superfluous emotion or not, he's an emotional and frankly very whiny but very sexy drunk. So anywho, a few drinks later...  
  
"Umm Jimmy," Johnny said, finishing the drink and looking at him with morbidly glassy eyes.  
  
"Yesssss?" he replied, nearly unable to get the smile off his face.  
  
"Have you ever wanted to die?"  
  
"Yes of course. Doesn't everyone at some point?" Jimmy replied. I wanted to die every time I was unable to see you...  
  
"Well surprisingly *hic* I *hic* oh fuck it," Johnny murmured pulling the other youth closer to him, gently and took a moment just to ...eh... just savor the moment....  
  
"Well are you two going to get it on or what?" came a chipper voice from behind the couch. It was Melva with her large eyes, bringing a video camera into focus.  
  
Oh you will die someday Melva, Jimmy though viciously. Nny was just out of his skull by that point; leaping up. "Oh my god-HOW LONG???!!! How long have you been behind there!!! Such an idiot I've been!"  
  
"Shut up, all of you. Take your pants off too," a growling voice from the corner said. It was the mysterious Luis, shot gun ready.  
  
"But I'm not wearing anything..." Jimmy started but was silenced like a young kid but the murderous glare on Luis's skinny horse-like face. Luis smirked and ran into the kitchen.  
  
"I've been preparing this all fucking day! It is JELL-O MOLD!!!!!" he shrieked, gun forgotten as he carefully brought out at elaborate looking green, pink and orange thingie shaped Jell-O mold. That * that * thingie you perverts. It's just a pile of Jell-O!!!! Innocent Jell-O these people are going to foul!!!  
  
Johnny just swallowed. He was drunk wearing no pants, in a room with his fanboy, a voyeur and a guy with a shot gun and lots of frooty gelatin goodness. This was not good. Where was that smart-ass in the pink dress? Johnny didn't have a whole hell of a lot of time to ponder this. Bernadette was making her arrival, naked into the pile of Jell-O tackling Luis.  
  
"Sexy!" Melva screamed jumping into the lot.  
  
"Uhh right. I guess we can put our pants back on....there'd be no reason....ughh my head," Johnny said moving towards he and Jimmy's room. Jimmy just followed him, not bothering with the pants.  
  
"Nny?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Have you ever...y'know do it with someone?"  
  
"I wouldn't remember..."  
  
"I haven't before."  
  
"Was that what the rape was for?"  
  
"You don't have to be an asshole about it. I was just asking."  
  
"I'm surprised I haven't killed you yet-they do keep sharp knives in here. That's Luis guy had a gun...."  
  
"Why do you say that? Am I really that bad?"  
  
"No...I guess not."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Really really really sure?"  
  
"Stop asking me."  
  
"Ok."  
  
"Why would you want to know that anyway?"  
  
"Because..."  
  
"I know why you're looking at me like that. I'm still far from drunk, so I can blame substance-induced poor judgement for it."  
  
"Oh yay."  
  
~*~(~*~  
  
"OH DEAR GOD!!!!!"  
  
"Heh heh...HARDER!!!!" 


	5. “A WHITE HAIR! GAAH I’VE BEEN TRAUMATIZE...

Disclaimer: I forget whether I have to do this stinky thing for every chapter. Bleh you know the drill.  
  
Author's Note: Umm the insanity continues! Nny's traumatized! Hooray! Ughh I hate reading over what I write...at least I can blame my typos and stupid errors on trying to be funny. Or I could proofread. Yes that's definitely better. This chapter will be much better.  
  
J. Maquerite: There's an idea...need a tissue fo' da drool before da legacy continues? Oh never mind...it's started and I can't control it anymore!!  
  
BloodyScar: Your review hasn't shown up yet...but I KNOW it will....the e- mail creature told me so. I wuv feeling wuved.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
"A WHITE HAIR!!!! GAAH I'VE BEEN TRAUMATIZED!!! I KNEW IT!!!!"  
  
(No that wasn't the start of the chapter, just a funny quote from the actual chapter because I can't think of a title. Gone to the Ground by F&TM is very annoying.)  
  
It's needless to tell you chipper people that Nny didn't sleep last night. In fact he doubted he would ever sleep again. He just lay there, staring at the wall. "Johnny are you ok?" Jimmy's worried voice penetrated the dark corridors of his mind.  
"I am soulless. Let me be...." he said melodramatically.  
"Really Johnny-you've got to go to work at some point...they'll ask QUESTIONS! Uncomfortable QUESTIONS!" Jimmy replied anxiously. He made a bold move and walked over to his living god, placing his hands on his arm and practically yanking him out of bed. Johnny managed an 'oof' before shoving Jimmy away from him.  
"I'm fine!!! We're all so very fine here!!" he said; mad madness evident with a growl. He turned and strode down the hall way, leaving Jimmy perplexed. Johnny went into the bathroom and slammed the door. It rattled the picture frames. Picture frames filled with surplus hotel paintings....someone had taken them down and drawn tiny perverted things in the corners.  
Jimmy sat on the bed, thinking. Was Johnny mad at him? He had obviously done something bad...very bad...he would need to be punished for that. Heh heh punishment....Jimmy! Stop being a pervert! You have a situation here!  
"What?" he said to the air. "Johnny?"  
No it's not Johnny. Notice how there are no quotation marks around my words? This is the narrator.  
"Oh this is very scary...how'd you get in here?"  
I'm everywhere Jimmy. This is third person omniscient. I could tell you what Melva was feeling right now if I really wanted to. Do you want to know?  
"Not really...that girl freaks me out...I'm still confuzzled about all of this. First I got landed here, then I screwed Johnny and now I'm hearing some creepy voice that calls herself The Narrator.  
Jimmy would have continued his lament but there was a blood-curdling shriek from the bathroom.  
"Quite it!" he said to The Narrator as he jogged down the hallway. "Johnny are you all right?"  
"A WHITE HAIR!!!! GAAH I'VE BEEN TRAUMATIZED!!! I KNEW IT!!!!" Was the only reply he received. "My beautiful raven-blue hair described to such length by raving fangirls!"  
Johnny looked abashed for a moment. "Why did I just say that? I didn't want to say that. I wanted to talk about how I was traumatized by giving into the needs of flesh-- not go into such depth about my hair. What the hell is going on here?"  
Jimmy opened the door and held Johnny close. "My god she's gotten to you too. It's THE NARRATOR!!!" Johnny gave him a weird look and pulled away.  
"It couldn't be an external force. I am more a threat to my own mind than anyone else. It had to be my MADNESS!" he replied brushing past him.  
"So what now? You fuck me and then you don't want to have anything to do with me?" Jimmy squeaked after him. Oh dear god, he thought, she did it again. I didn't want to sound like a trashy soap opera slut boy. I love Johnny. I don't care how he treats me. I wasn't supposed to say THAT! And I squeaked. Why?  
Johnny turned, the soap opera light shining in his beautiful onyx eyes. He was an ultra-sexy Greek god of death and doomy destruction! *Screams of fangirl and hellfans,* "If I remember correctly Mr. Jimmy Person, YOU fucked ME. YOU got ME drunk YOU slut!"  
  
Several minutes later on the couch....  
  
"I don't know what's going on here. The OOC! The OOC!" Johnny exclaimed worriedly. Jimmy took a deep sigh.  
"It's not difficult. She's screwing with our lines-we don't say things like that! This is NOT a psycho soap opera. Also The Narrator is recording everything we do, when it suits her purposes."  
"I say we ignore her. She'll go away eventually," Johnny replied.  
"Yeah but by then the story will be over! The damage done!" Jimmy told him.  
Johnny stood walking over to the door and opening it. "I dunno. I need some air...I need to go for a walk....I need to go to work..." He pulled out the papers that gave the address and all that of his job. For some reason at least pretending to be a 'normal' person would feel pretty good. He'd probably go into a mad killing rampage by the end of the day, but you know whatever works.  
"Well ok, but I'm going to figure this out for us. Find a way to stop her. Yeah that's what I'll do," Jimmy said vengefully, standing, "But don't go spreading this around-people might think you're crazy."  
Johnny looked about to say something but decided against it. With a final 'ok' he left and started off into the sun, realizing The Narrator hadn't let him shower or brush his teeth or change his clothes or anything. AND I'M NOT GOING TO EITHER HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Jimmy on the other hand listened carefully to the running commentary and too started out the door, in the opposite direction- I KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING!!! YOU'RE GOING TO MY HOUSE!!! WELL THEN YOU'LL JUST ARRIVE WEARING A CHICKEN SUIT SO THE POLICE WILL TAKE YOU AWAY!!! YOU'LL NEVER FIND ME!!! PEOPLE HATE PEOPLE IN CHICKEN SUITS!!! I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE!!!!  
  
((So friends, do we want to hear about Johnny's experiences at work or Jimmy's strange trek to my house? It's you're call. I've got stupid ideas for either one. Plenty of them.)) 


End file.
